A Hungry World
by Gweezy93
Summary: Daryl has veered from Rick and the group and has found out that north of georgia, in tennessee, the outbreak has just begun. he stopped at beach house and has met olivia (oc), a socially awkward twenty something, who has just had her life ripped from under her. lots of gore and language and sex eventually
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

I arrived at this new beach, and felt skeptical at best. It wasn't a real beach. The last of the imported sand was being dumped out of the back of a truck. The water was this nasty green color, since this was an inlet fed from the Tennessee River. I'll swim in it if i have to. And all at once i realized the best part of this outdoor beach was the beach house that doubled as a motel. Its exterior was as stylish as Uncle Sam's taxes would bear to pay for, but it was new.

As i entered the beach house, I was surprised to see a nice pool, surrounded by chairs with quaint cushions. The door was narrow. Too narrow to comfortably bring my bags through without looking too awkward, which was a common problem for me.

I was spoiled. I had to have my essentials. Phone, wifi, the works. But I was unusual. I approached the check in desk in the next room and hesitated. In my mind, I searched with no end for the right words to say. I opened my mouth to speak, and as I was about to allow the words to roll away from my tongue, I stopped. My mouth parsed back together again. "Uh-m," l finally stuttered to the woman behind the counter. She looked at me impatiently. "I- have a reservation." Ughh. I figured I would be rethinking how I could had said that for the next hour. Social anxiety sucks. She showed us to our room. Us being my two friends who decided to accompany me.

Lenna was a lenky blonde, with legs like skyscrapers. It didn't help that she liked to wear high waisted shorts that even further complimented her twin tower legs. I was jealous, but not by much. She had a dumb girl kinda personality, but as kind a heart as they come. Then there's Esma, who was shallow and conceited. I loved her but in that way that you kind of want her short, dark-headed ass to get hit by a bus, and maybe be on the bus when it hit her, or even be the driver. Okay so maybe I didn't like her. She was more of a frienemy than a real friend. Oh well.

We followed the woman to our rooms, chatting and laughing, even fakely cutting up at times with Esma. The receptionist lifted her arm towards my room with the key. Her sleeve rode up, exposing a bloodied bandage. I looked up at her face. She fumbled to pull her sleeve down and I noticed she was flush and had been sweating. She opened the doors to our rooms and hurried back down the hallway. From our open doors, we made plans to meet up later by the pool, not that I cared. Sometimes, I felt more alone in a crowd of people, then I actually would have felt room was, well, a room, with one bed and a tiny tv. I set my bags down on the bed, thinking about the woman's bandage and wondered what happened. I didn't want to be nosy, but it just seemed strange.

When the time came, I joined the girls at the pool. They were both in chairs, tweeting on their phones, so they didn't notice the guy leaning on the door frame, his hands in his pockets. His hair and clothes were a bit dingy but, in a gritty sort of way, he was beautiful. He had on a biker vest and jeans and as I looked closer, I noticed that he had a knife in a holster. He looked like he was waiting on someone.

Well, quickly forgetting about the random pretty hobo, I prepared to get into the pool. I shimmied my shorts off, revealing my bikini bottom, but before I was able to take off my shirt, I felt two hands on my back. I was pushed clumsily into the pool. As I came up, I gasped for air, and searched for the culprit. I could feel my face become red hot with anger. Still searching for the culprit, I locked eyes with The Man By The Door, who cut his eyes back out the door. A half-smile played upon his face. I finally got out of the pool and glared down at Esma, who laughed foolishly. I joined the ladies, that still sat on the chairs texting. We stayed for a while and talked rather loudly and the man by the door kept looking at us. Finally Esma had had enough.

"Whatchu lookin' at, asshole?" she hollered at him. He stormed his way over when we all heard a blood curdling scream from the receptionist's desk. We rushed over to see what was going on, and found her laying in the floor. The three of us went over to her to help but as I bent down, the man pushed us out of the way and stabbed her in the forehead with his knife.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" I begged furiously.

"Yeah we could have helped her!" Lenna proclaimed. I got in his face. I heard Lenna behind me begin to cry. But he didn't back down. He was fairly tall and smelled like he needed a shower. That didn't deter me. He spoke aggressively.

"She's a walker! She's gone! Ya'll best get used to this-" but before he could finish, someone came through the door moaning and growling, and behind him, came a small hoard of these reanimated, walking corpses. Their torn flesh hung from their bodies and they smelt of death itself. Lenna screamed but couldn't get away fast enough. She was devoured. I stood in shock as I watched them tear her limb from limb. As Esma ran to Lenna's corpse to save her, she, too, was taken down by the heaps of rotten flesh. I still stood, unable to move. I could hear The Man By The Door yelling for me to run and as i turned around to run, I saw eye-to-eye, the crazed cannibal. His jaw was broken and hanging by a hunk of flesh. His eyes were yellowed and sunken back into his head and his flesh looked as though it was glued directly to the bone. The thing grabbed onto me and still, I was stunned. His blood dripped down from his jaw as he lowered his mouth to my arm. I tried to push him away but his body weight felt as if it were leaned against me. He was stronger than anything I had ever encountered. All I could think was, he's trying- to bite me. He's-, but my thought was interrupted by a pair of hands grabbing me and pulling me back. I turned and ran that way.

I ran to the door of the beach house to close it while this man drove his knife into the head of the other- zombies. "You got a name?" he snarled, as he finished them off. "Olivia." I said, trembling with still fresh terror. "You?"

"Daryl."


	2. Chapter 2: Washed Away

We sat quietly, amongst the mangled dead. Bodies lie in every direction. Daryl tried to keep himself busy, shuffling the corpses around in pile. I wondered why he was doing this. Maybe because the air was filled with ten tons of awkward. I looked at my hands, bloodied and red. It started to sink in. My friends were not just killed, but- eaten. I squated down in a heap, dropped my head in my hands, and sobbed lightly. I wouldn't let myself bawl. Not in front of people. It is weakness. But I wanted to.I had only once ever felt a sadness like this. Of course, not in the same way. I mean, I had seen that guy in Miami get his face bitten off, but I figured it was just the bath salts.

Lifting my head up to wipe the tears from my eyes, I noticed Daryl walking towards me. He dug in his front vest pocket and pulled out a rag. "You got a little somethin' on your face," he told me but never looked at me. I paused to look up at him. As I reached for the dingy rag, I saw that his head was turned but his eyes cut my way once and then looked away. Maybe he wanted to connect but-?

I stood on my feet and walked to the poolside. My face in the reflection was bloodied from holding my head in my hands. I knelt to dip the rag into the water but let the water in the pool settle to look at my face closer. As I wiped, a drop of blood fell onto the water and made a ripple that slowly spread out across the still water. I thought of the receptionist and her bandage. This thing, this disease, must have spread through a bite. Images of the bloody corpse in my face flashed through my mind. All at once I realized how I looked. I looked like one of those- things. It was then that I knew that I could not become that. I could not let myself contribute to the ripple effect. I had to live; I had to survive.

I got up from the edge of the pool and walked past the hoards of dead lying in the floor. I knew I needed to face this; to do what needed to be done. Daryl watched me walk across the floor to him, and he watched me take his knife from its holster. I heard his random expletives, but only faintly. I walked into the reception area where the horror all started for me and stepped over the bodies. I beheld the maimed bodies of my two former friends. Esma, and her many severed parts, lay next to a wall. As I moved closer, I noticed her head was still animated. Her hair separated from the nearly coagulated blood on the floor in stringy strands of muck as her head tilted my way. Her eyes fixated on mine. I heard a faint grumble from her lips as they separated. Her lips and her skin shone a blue-green tint and deep purple veins thrust their way just beneath the skin. My hands trembled but I clenched the blade tighter. I knelt next to the corpse. Her only attached arm reached for me but then fell limp once I drove my blade into her forehead. I rose and walked over to Lenna's lifeless body.

Her body had not yet animated but I thought a job still needed to be done. I began to tremble again. Her once beautiful body now resembled Esma's corpse. She was covered in her own blood and her clothes were torn and tattered. Tears welled in my eyes as I approached her slowly. She had been the best friend I ever had but now she was this monster. She was no longer who she had been. I knelt next to her. She was now just a part of this ripple, to which we all would eventually succomb. But not me, I thought, not today. I had this innate need to endure and continue on.

I brushed Lenna's blonde hair back. I tried to fight the tears but I could feel them streaming down my face. Gripping the knife with both hands, I raised it above my head. I swiftly forced the knife through her rotting head. As I pulled the knife out, blood splattered all over my hands again. I stood in the doorway. Daryl looked up at me from where he sat but said nothing. I looked at my hands and the knife. I walked over to the pool and began to wash my hands and his knife off, and felt a weight lift from my shoulders. The blood from my hands tainted the water below. It was then I realized that their death was not my cross to bear. And my burden, like the blood in the pool, was washed away. But it would not be forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3: He's All I've Got

"You good now?" Daryl growled as he stood up. "I've gotta get goin'." He hoisted his bag up on his shoulder. He was turned and walking towards the door.

"I- can go with you," I began. "I can help you." I looked at the back of his head, hoping he would turn around and look at me. He stopped walking and turned his head and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he not want me to go?

He motioned for me to come on. "I have to get some things first," I told him. I went into my room and grabbed the blankets from my bed, and my sheets. I managed to stuff the blankets into my backpack where I had formerly put my clothes and other things. Daryl was leaned up on the door frame waiting.

"What's all that for?" He asked.

"Well, you don't wanna be cuddlin' for warmth tonight, now do you?" I looked right into his eyes. He blushed. Some tough guy. I never stopped looking in his eyes until I walked past him. I was sure I was blushing too. I didn't know what had gotten into me. I was normally so shy around guys.

We were close to walking out the door. Daryl was in front of me. I asked him, "So- what do you drive?" It was a stretch to try and make conversation, but I was curious. As he held the door open for me, he said, "Well, it's not much but-" It was a monster of a motorcycle, a chopper. Its handle bars were tall and it was a sleek black with what looked a Nazi "SS" symbol on the side.

"It's something." He finished. I got nervous. I had never been on a bike before so I really didn't know what to expect. He straddled it and started the bike up. It roared through the tall oak trees above us. At that moment I wished he would had straddled me. He looked at me then said, "You gonna stand there and get ate, or you gonna get on?" I looked around and noticed that two dead people were shuffling our way.

I lifted my leg to get on the bike. Once again I felt awkward. I had just realized that I didn't know what to hold on to. He had a dingy vest on that had angel wings on the back. I put my arms around his waist and held on tight, and we rode off. Daryl's sleeves were torn, revealing thick biceps, and forearms that flexed when he changed gears. I tried at first not to hold on too tight, but it felt so comfortable, so right. He was warm, too. The vibrations from the bike made me tingle between my legs and I wanted him more. But I knew that it was probably a longshot. I barely knew him anyway. Basically all I knew was his name. So I dismissed the thought, for now anyways.

We continued on down the road, passing straggling undead as we went. The trees were glistening in front of the setting sun and I knew we had to be stopping soon. We found a pop up camper at an abandoned campsite and we stopped there.

"We'll stay here tonight," he said as he put the kickstand down on the bike. I got off as well and began to look around. I opened the door to the camper and went up the stairs. There was a dead woman laying in the floor in front of the bed. Blood splattered on the walls and things were scattered everywhere. I saw food cans laid out on the counter tops. I realized just how hungry I was.

I opened the cabinets and looked through. I heard a can move on the floor behind me. The dead woman had risen up! I screamed. She reached her hands towards me and her feet quickened from a shuffle. The thing charged me, tackling me. I kicked her while trying to hold her head away from me. Then Daryl stormed in and pulled her away, stabbing her in the head.

"Were you bit?" He screamed.

"No, I'm fine, I think." I was still panicking though, and began to cry. Daryl came over to me and offered his hand out. I grabbed it and he helped me pull myself up. He then handed me a knife and said, "You're gonna need this, that is, if you plan on livin'."

I got us some canned food to eat while Daryl made a fire. I had never felt such a range of emotions in my life. And coupled with those emotions were the needs I had never lacked before. I hadn't gone more then a few hours without eating in a really long time. Plus I was tired and thirsty. On top of that, I had lost my friends and probably all my family at home. And I had almost died too. If it wasn't for Daryl, I would be dead.

I sat next to the fire, wrapped in my blanket. I watched the fire dance in front of me as I becames lost in my thoughts.

"So, you call them walkers?" He only looked at me. "Do you know what caused all this?" He nodded his head no. At least I was trying to have a conversation.

"You had better get some sleep. Gon' have a long day t'mar'." He pointed to the camper. "But where will you sleep?" "Ground's jus' fine with me." I didn't say anything, I just picked up and dusted off my blanket, and went into the camper. I felt terrible that he had to sleep on the ground. As I laid down, I couldn't get the thoughts out of my head. Daryl could possibly get eaten. What if I get eaten? How are my family doing? My family? I kept thinking of all the possible combinations of terrible things that could happen. I began to tremble. I had to get up. I walked over to the door of the camper and stood there, beckoning him with my eyes.

"Whatchu wan' me ta tuck ya' in too?" he snarled at me.

"I can't sleep. Those things have me freaked out." Finally, after rolling his eyes at me, he got up and followed me into the camper.

"I felt bad that you were sleepin' outside. And- I dont mind you sleepin' in here with me. Hell, you saved my life more than once, so I'm sure I can trust you for the most part." It was so dark but I could see that he was uneasy. "It's ok." I smiled and took his hand. "I don't bite." I sat on the bed and started thinking out loud.

"I keep thinkin' of everything that's happened today and I can't shake it. I truely can't sleep. I don't wanna dream of them. Ya know?" I had to vent to him. He was lying on the bed with one hand behind his head on the pillow and one on his stomach. His crossbow stood up against the side of the bed, loaded and ready. I laid down and looked at him.

"Ya know, now that all this has happened, you're all I've got. My family's prob'ly dead." We sat in silence for a while.

"You know how long it's been since I slep' in a bed?"

"It's been that long?"

"Well, where I come from, in Georgia, this been goin' on for a while." he never looked away from the ceiling. I began to fall asleep, but I kept being woken up by my thoughts of the walkers. I jumped, hard. The thoughts were taking my breath, as I jumped, and Daryl felt it. He scooted over to me and awkwardly slid his arm down mine. His hands were dark and bloodstained; his fingers had rough calluses on the joints.

As we lie there, I felt Daryl's body slowly form to mine. I could feel that his pants became tighter and something poked me when he inched closer. I smiled as he fumbled around to tuck it away between his legs. Finally, once he was done, we settled down and slept.


End file.
